As the World Falls Down

by Katy Nicholas

When she was gone, I turned back to the turnip in front of me and stabbed it repeatedly with the knife, my knuckles white from gripping the handle so hard.

  After the tenth or so lunge, I felt a little less angry.

  Chapter Twenty

  After…

  Every file, folder, and laptop from the bunker got taken to one of the old science classrooms. Nate spent over a week reading through report after report and making lists of equipment he needed, including medical books and journals. Daniel said he would get a looting party together so they could scour the local hospitals, but Nate insisted we go with them. Daniel was reluctant, but Gabriel won him over by pointing out to him that we weren’t prisoners here, and he trusted us not to go back on our agreement.

  Frankly, I wasn’t sure we wouldn’t just run off at some point, but for now, we intended to keep up our end of the bargain. Plus, I couldn’t deny that fish and chips Friday was one of the best things to happen since the apocalypse.

  Continuously hungry, and slightly less nauseous, I visited the canteen several times a day in between the main mealtimes. Someone I’d not met yet would usually stop me to introduce themselves and invite me to sit with them. Then we’d spend an hour or so talking and eating. Living among so many different humans felt like a novelty, and I never grew tired of hearing them speak about their lives.

  A slight swelling in my lower stomach meant that my size ten trousers were starting to feel uncomfortably tight. Eve insisted I must be nearing the twelve-week mark after finding me some more drawstring trousers in the next size up. I couldn’t be sure how far along I was or that my slight weight gain wasn’t down to anything other than all the chips I’d been scoffing over the last two weeks.

  She and I had developed a routine of going down to the canteen together at lunch, to eat and meet with others in the community. Nate would stay in the classroom reading, and I’d bring him up a plate of something later after we’d finished.

  I learned quickly that when he focused on something, it was best to leave him to get on with it as he was too distracted to hold even the shortest of conversations. Still, most of the time, I stayed in the science room with him, reading books I’d picked up from the school library and fetching him coffee every now and then.

  At dinner, I dragged him down to the canteen to coax him out of his academical trance for the night. He needed the break, even though he was reluctant to take it. If he resisted, I resorted to other, more physical measures to bring him back to reality. Our need for each other hadn’t waned despite his new distraction, though I’d worried it would, given his previous admission of being a workaholic.

  “Halley, this is Priya,” Eve said as a coffee-colored goddess plonked herself down on a chair at our table.

  She was stunning. Tall, yet curvy, with long, wavy black hair and deep brown eyes. She wore a sleeveless black churidar suit with gold and pink embroidered flowers running asymmetrically down the length of the dress, combined with bright pink leggings and matching heels.

  “So good to finally meet you,” she said, smiling a dazzling smile with her glossy fuchsia lips. Too absorbed in her visage, it took me a few seconds to realize she was speaking to me.

  “You too,” I mumbled, still somewhat mesmerized.

  Eve chuckled and leaned in close to my ear. “It’s all right. Priya has that effect on everyone. Even when we see her in jeans and a t-shirt, she has us all weak at the knees.”

  I frowned. “That’s kind of weird.”

  Priya scoffed. “Tell me about it. I was never this admired before I died.”

  “So, it’s your superpower then?”

  “Being adored? I sincerely hope not,” she laughed.

  Eve leaned forward and rested her chin on her knuckles, batting her eyelids at Priya in a mock dreamy-eyed gesture. “Priya effects the people around her. Calms us when we’re angry. Lifts us when we’re sad. She can also read emotions. We just don’t know exactly why she has these abilities.”

  Priya sighed. “Yes. It would be nice to know what they have planned for me.”

  Wouldn’t we all. “Maybe you’re a doula or someone like that?”

  Eve sat up. “Isn’t that like a midwife?”

  “It can be, but not always,” I said. “My friend Lizzie wanted to be a doula for people with dementia. And dogs. She was a bit eccentric, to be honest.”

  Thinking of Lizzie broke my heart a little. The anguish must’ve shown on my face because Priya gave me a warm smile and laid her hand over mine. The static surge from the connection caused me to jerk back, almost tipping over the chair I sat on. From out of nowhere, a fleeting sense of euphoria undulated over me.

  Priya shook herself and blew out an unsteady breath. “That’s never happened be—” She stopped mid-word and blinked at me. “Oh my—you’re—"

  I quickly cut her off. “Not telling anyone right now!”

  Priya puckered her lips as if she needed to physically stop the rest of her sentence from coming out of her mouth. After a moment of composure though, she smiled.

  “Bloody hell,” she whispered.

  Eve, totally unfazed, gave Priya one of her stern glares. “Not a word to anyone until Halley is ready. Nate doesn’t know yet.”

  “Why haven’t you told him?” she asked me. “I know how scared you are. I feel it. It would scare me too. If you ever want to talk to me about it—about your mother—we can. Anytime.”

  “How did you know—” Stupid question. The virus had told her when we touched, along with announcing my pregnancy. I wondered why the same thing hadn’t happened with Nate, given our bond.

  In any case, I didn’t want to talk about it. Time to change the subject. “What do you do here, Priya?”

  Eve had already filled me in on the inner workings of the community. Everyone here had a specific job, depending on where their talents lay.

  Priya was taken aback by my sudden redirection but quickly adapted, flashing me a sympathetic smile before she answered. “I’m a teacher. But, as you might imagine, the class sizes are rather small.”

  Eve interjected. “Erik spoke English already, but the others in his group weren’t as fluent, so Priya taught them.”

  Priya grinned at me. “I learned to speak Icelandic in return.”

  Beautiful, psychic, and smart. I couldn’t help but feel intimidated.

  “Priya is also going to be teaching Claire soon,” Eve added.

  It made sense. Claire would’ve lost out on a huge chunk of her schooling because of the apocalypse. Just because the world ended didn’t mean the end of fractions and long division. Sadly.

  “What about her brother?”

  Eve and Priya exchanged troubled glances.

  I sat up. “What? Did something happen to him?”

  Eve sighed. “He’s gone.”

  I certainly hadn’t seen anyone younger than Claire around. “Gone where?”

  “Peter isn’t real,” Priya said. “And he seems to have gone for good since Claire evolved.”

  When Claire spoke about him, he seemed so real. It never even occurred to me that he might be a figment of her imagination.

  “Claire was ten when the outbreak started, and then she was alone for four years until we found her. She created Peter for company,” Eve explained.

  Priya shook her head sadly. “I spent almost two years alone. That was bad enough. Imagine what it must’ve been like for a child.”

  My gaze shifted to Eve, who had the most wretched expression on her face.

  “We should’ve headed down this way sooner,” she muttered.

  Guilt. It was self-blame that caused Eve to look so tormented. I knew the feeling well. My entire life was filled with things I should have done.

  “That’s awful.”

  Eve nodded. “This is why we have to keep looking for people.”

  Yes. Nobody should have to be alone, I thought, my regretful conscience conjuring up an image of Rebecca sitting abandoned at the kitchen table, waiting for me to return.
>
  After finishing our food, Priya suggested some fresh air.

  We chose to sit under the old sycamore tree I’d seen from the bedroom window. The morning’s mist had cleared completely now, giving way to a sunny day with clear skies, although the grass around the tree was still dewy in patches where the sun hadn’t touched it yet.

  We found a dry area to spread out on, beneath the shade of a rickety wooden pergola where Eve kicked off her shoes off and lay down with her knees up, her head resting on her knitted fingers. Priya and I chose to sit cross-legged, leaning back against one of the horizontal beams of the pergola, the timber beneath barely visible through the twisted vines of a bushy, purple wisteria plant.

  “Surely, finding people is easier with running cars though,” I said.

  I wondered how many vehicles they had here and whether it would affect them badly if one were to go missing.

  “Short distances. Yes,” Eve said. “But, running them on vegetable oil isn’t ideal. And we’ll run out eventually. We have some electric cars, but charging them is problematic, given the output of the generators we have. Not to mention, they only go about two-hundred-and-fifty miles on a full charge. It’s not feasible for long-distance journeys. As for LPG, supplies stopped being imported to Britain about a month after the outbreak, so we’re out of luck there too.”

  Priya frowned. “So, what’s the answer?”

  “Damned if I know,” Eve shrugged. “We’re hoping Erik can figure something out. A solar car or a boat, maybe.”

  “I always fancied learning to sail,” Priya said.

  “I mean, the other option would be to get people to come to us. But we’d need a radio transmitter with a wider range and more power.” Eve growled in frustration. “We didn’t know how easy we had it before the outbreak.”

  “Can’t argue that,” I mumbled.

  “Isn’t it kinda nice to have a clean slate though? We have an opportunity to do things differently this time. We can work with nature instead of against it,” Priya mused.

  Eve sighed. “All irrelevant if we can’t repopulate.”

  Priya turned her head to me. “Tobias and I would love to have children.”

  I’d no idea they were a couple. “Wouldn’t you be afraid the baby would catch the virus?”

  “Yes, I—”

  “That’s what we need Nate for. He’s going to help us. He will figure out the risk, if there is one,” Eve said quickly.

  “If there is one?”

  Eve sat up, brushing the grass from her arms. “I don’t believe the virus—or they—would allow you to conceive if the baby was at risk from the virus. It wouldn’t make sense. I truly believe something is happening here. Something important.”

  I admired Eve’s conviction. “Maybe.”

  Priya crossed her arms. “Part of me believes you’re right, Eve. But the cynical human part of me needs a more professional opinion on it. Let’s face it, there’s a good chance we’re all simply delusional, and you’re just talking bollocks.”

  I laughed. “Maybe one of us is in a coma, and this is just some drug-induced dream.”

  Eve narrowed her eyes at us. “Heathens.”

  Priya grinned. “Anyway, what about you, Eve? Do you want children?”

  Eve looked away, choosing to focus her attention on the game currently being played on the basketball court. Did Priya know about Eve’s past? About the children she’d lost to the virus?

  “Of course,” she replied, but there was nothing in her voice to suggest it was the truth, despite her impassioned mission to save the human race.

  For Eve’s sake, I changed the subject again.

  ****

  “Halley, I’m not sure you should come with us.”

  Just as I swung one leg up into the passenger footwell of an old Range Rover, Nate put his hand on my shoulder, a concerned frown over his eyes.

  “Tough. I’m coming.”

  In reality, the notion of venturing anywhere near a hospital sent me into a cold sweat. The highways were bad enough, but a hospital would be a hundred times worse, jam-packed with the rotting corpses of the infected.

  He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “You can be very stubborn at times, Halley.”

  It surprised me this realization had only just dawned on him. It was a trait I shared with Rebecca, although I’d always give in first because her pig-headedness far exceeded mine.

  Tobias, our appointed designated driver, sat behind the wheel of the vehicle, turning the keys repeatedly to get the engine started. A few times, he thumped down hard on the dashboard with his fist and swore while pumping the clutch pedal. Parked beside us, Ben and Laura sat in an open back pick-up truck, engine purring and raring to go.

  Eve finally appeared and climbed into the front passenger seat, informing us that Daniel wasn’t coming after all—despite the fuss he’d kicked up about letting us come along in the first place.

  “Thought he wanted to keep an eye on the captives,” Tobias smirked, gesturing back to us.

  Eve snarled at him. “He’s helping to get the generators set up.”

  Tobias shrunk a little but gave us a sly grin when her attention was focused on doing up her seatbelt.

  After a few more attempts at getting the engine started, it coughed and roared, the smell of charred oil wafting in through the vents prompting me to cover my mouth and nose.

  As we set off, Eve twisted around to face us both, although her question was directed at Nate.

  “So, is any of the research making sense yet?”

  Nate shrugged. “Well, sort of. I’ve only caught up on what everyone else knows already.”

  We hadn’t talked about his research efforts so far, and I hadn’t asked. Part of me didn’t want to know. There was something to be said for the perks of being blissfully ignorant. Any major revelations would most likely send me into an agonizing panic about the baby. Still, it was cowardly and ultimately avoiding the inevitable.

  “Anything I need to know?”

  Nate reached over and took my hand. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I want to tell you.”

  I winced. “Just tell me.”

  “Maybe Nate doesn’t want you to worry about it, Halley,” Eve cut in.

  “Just tell me.” I also didn’t want to be sheltered from it anymore.

  Nate set his jaw, apprehensively, but after a brief moment of consideration, he spoke. “The virus isn’t a virus.”

  It wasn’t the first time I’d heard this. From my recollection of watching the news at the time, such rumors had been circulated by some members of the British Press, but quickly dismissed as ridiculous by I.D.R.I.S.

  I swallowed deeply, my heart fluttering with anxiety. “Then what is it?”

  “They weren’t sure. It behaves like a virus, but it also has some of the attributes of an intelligent organism,” he said.

  No great surprise there since it’d been trying to communicate with us.

  Nate continued. “It invades a host and immediately begins to replicate itself, cloning every cell in the host’s body. It then seems to integrate its own genetic information into the new cell. The old cells are recycled for energy, which is pretty clever.”

  It almost made me laugh out loud. “Cloning?”

  Nate nodded. “That part is a rather bitter pill to swallow.”

  I set that particular piece of information aside for now. “If it’s so clever, why did so many people die?”

  “The incompatibility of the human brain.”

  The apprehensive look on his face had been replaced by the wide-eyed expression of wonder he donned whenever he spoke about a subject that interested him.

  “The virus can’t copy brain cells because the electrical impulses in our brains interfere with the cloning process. The new brain cells it creates are faulty, which—to cut a long story short—quickly results in complete organ failure.”

  This made no sense. “Then how did we survive?”

  “It’s complicated, but es
sentially, in a small proportion of people, the virus behaved differently. At first, they thought it was a mutation, and that a cure could be developed from the new strain. But there was no mutation, not one they could identify anyway.”

  “So, if it wasn’t a mutation, then what was it?”

  “Not sure. Maybe it learned instead,” Nate replied.

  “Learned what?”

  “Not to copy our brain cells while the electrical impulses are still firing,” he said. “From what I can gather, it goes dormant until we die. As soon as the electrical impulses stop firing, it finishes the cloning process and then activates itself in every cell and disables or alters the genetic traits in us it doesn’t like.”

  Intriguing. “What traits?”

  “Susceptibility to illness, the aging process, the speed at which we heal.”

  Okay. Fine. Not so bad. I could deal with that. Probably. “Clones though?”

  Tobias glanced back over his shoulder at me. “There’s a bright side, you know. For me, at least.”

  “Oh?”

  “I was in Ibiza on a stag-do for my best mate’s wedding, right before the outbreak. I got so drunk that I ended up in a tattoo parlor. I woke up the next day with this awful piece of art on my arse. It’s gone now. No trace it was ever there.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “It’s gone?”

  “The virus doesn’t replicate things like scars or tattoos,” Nate explained.

  As I attempted to take in this new information, the car fell silent. It wasn’t until we ran over something bulky on the road, that I spoke again as my head collided with the roof.

  “Ouch.”

  Tobias grimaced. “Corpse. Shit. Didn’t see it.”

  Eve turned to him, her nose screwed up in distaste. “I am not scraping that off the bumper.”

  The hospital wasn’t far from the school and took about twenty minutes without the delay of London traffic to slow us down. We drove down the ambulance lane, avoiding the few thousand vehicles that spilled out from the massive car park and onto every curb and verge in the near vicinity. Even the ambulance lane was lined with cars, although we had just about enough room to pass by without bumping wing mirrors. We stopped outside the entrance to the accident and emergency department and reluctantly got out.